


Beyond a Doubt

by goldshard



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, M/M, More tags to be added, UKUS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldshard/pseuds/goldshard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-law student Alfred F. Jones has high goals as (hopefully) one of the first few omegas to ever be an attorney. His hopes feel slightly dashed when all his attempts to secure a summer internship at the largest firms in the city are rejected. </p><p>His favorite professor manages to secure him an internship, at his friend's small law firm specializing in divorces.</p><p>This could be merely insulting to Alfred, but instead it becomes tortuous when he accidentally becomes attuned to his boss' scent on his first day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attuned

“Well, I suppose you’re our first intern. Ever,” Mr. Kirkland told Alfred. He looked a little frustrated, rubbing his brow with his fingers and grimacing. “I’m not sure why Francis even wanted an intern, we don’t really need anymore help…”

Alfred didn’t dare actually say it to the man, but he wasn’t that pleased to be here either. He was like some kind of publicity stunt he felt sometimes—he was the first _ever_ omega to be accepted to his school’s pre-law program, and when he had been lots of news outlets reported because the school was very prestigious, and old fashioned. Alfred had been a member of the first class that accepted omegas, and the only one to take pre-law.

He was a straight-A student, a stand out amongst his peers, and his less close-minded professors loved him. So how come the only internship anyone could help him land was at a cheap firm specializing in divorce cases?

Bonnefoy & Kirkland was a pretty sparse affair. There were only four rooms—the main room and reception where the secretary sat at her computer that housed some seats for people waiting, the coffee machine, and a tray of Famous Amos cookies that Alfred had watch the receptionist pour out from the box this morning. He’d eaten four while he’d waited for either Bonnefoy or Kirkland to arrive. He’d been told to arrive at 8:30, which was the same time the receptionist arrived, but neither attorney had appeared in the office until 9:15 when Kirkland had shown up for work.

They had a legal aide, who the receptionist had introduced him too. The aide was named Matthew, and he primarily worked in the small record room pulling files for Kirkland or Bonnefoy, or accompanying them to court.

Aside from the main room and the record room, there were two offices, one for Kirkland and one for Bonnefoy. Alfred was currently sitting in Kirkland’s office—the man had a large desktop computer but had pulled a laptop out of his bag and set it on the windowsill. There were two slightly uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk, and a narrow bookshelf was against one wall. Kirkland did not seem to have many personal objects in his room, except for an electric tea kettle plugged into the wall with a rather impressive assortment of tea nearby. There were no photographs.

“Well,” Kirkland sighed, “Tell me a little about yourself, Alfred.”

Alfred told him the name of his school. He didn’t mention the whole-omega-thing because it already felt like the elephant in the room, and he went on, “I’m a hard worker, I’m dedicated, I want to learn everything I can while I’m here.”

Kirkland rubbed his chin. “Are we paying you?” He asked, “Francis didn’t really disclose much to me. He kind of dropped it on me like a bomb, actually.”

“No,” Alfred replied. That was another sore spot to him.

“Well, I suppose for now you can assist Michelle and Matthew with their jobs. I have a new client coming in this afternoon at 1:30, a Mr. Héderváry, who is getting a divorce with his alpha wife… Come in after your lunch and I will brief you on the details. You can assist me with the case while you are here, how does that sound?”

“It sounds great, Mr. Kirkland,” Alfred said. This could be his only internship opportunity in undergrad, he had to hold onto it with everything he had until he had an LSAT score to back him up and show everyone where he really belonged.

The biggest problem he was having, though, was his alpha boss… who smelled fucking fantastic. He’d tried not to think about it during their conversation, but now that he was in the main room making copies and Michelle was answering the phone he couldn’t escape from the thoughts in his mind.

Kirkland was a contradiction. He wasn’t inclined to really like the man, who obviously did not want him around, but the man smelled amazing. He was irresistible, he smelled like well brewed tea and hint of this smoky other thing that Alfred couldn’t really identify.

He’d let himself get attuned to Kirkland’s fucking scent, too. He could smell it throughout the office, as if it had permeated every pore in the walls. He had a feeling the scent would linger in his shirt when he got home.

What the Hell? He had never attuned to a scent so fast in his life before. He’d realized as soon as he’d left Kirkland’s office he was attuned, and it was an awful feeling.

He closed the door of the scanner on the copy machine a bit harder than he probably should have. Michelle glanced up at him and tucked the receiver of the phone under her chin to tell him, “Be careful with the copier. It’s a bit touchy,” and then went back to her conversation on the phone.

Matthew laughed and ate one of the cookies.

Alfred was pretty sure he’d just taken over most of Matthew’s job that Matthew was being paid for and he wasn’t and it kind of pissed him off. In Matthew’s book, it was probably awesome.

Bonnefoy finally made his entrance into the office around 10:30. He was taller than Kirkland, with longer blond hair and a well maintained beard. He had a graceful way about him that Kirkland had lacked. God, why couldn’t Alfred have attuned to Bonnefoy instead? At least then if it ever came out it would’ve been understandable for it to happen, the man was gorgeous.

“Ah ha!” Bonnefoy said, spotting Alfred. “You must be our new intern! How _magnifique_ to see you!” He went on. “Alfred, yes?”

“Alfred F. Jones, sir,” Alfred replied.

“Yes, yes, I guess that Arthur has already seen you?” Bonnefoy asked.

“Yes, but you’re the one who’s technically interning me.”

“Well, our firm itself is interning you, you are not specific to either of us. But I made the decision, yes. I thought, Bonnefoy & Kirkland should be doing something to give back to the students of the area! So I called up an acquaintance at the school, your Professor Carriedo, yes? And said I wanted to open up an internship opportunity! Two weeks later, we found you. Yes, we are quite excited to have you here, Mr. Jones.”

That wasn’t quite how it’d worked on Alfred’s end. He wouldn’t tell Bonnefoy a word though. Instead, he just said, “I’m very thankful for this opportunity, Mr. Bonnefoy.” Lie.

* * *

It had gone like this:

Alfred was sitting in Professor Carriedo’s office, about the internship applications. Carriedo had taken a bit of a shine to him. Carriedo was rather interested in the prospect of graduating an omega from the school’s pre-law program, and had liked Alfred personally, as well.

“Well, Alfred,” Carriedo had told him, giving him that pitiful look, “All of your applications were rejected. They gave fake reasons, of course, as you know, but they do not want you, because of your class.”

Alfred swore quietly and clenched his fists. Really, the overwhelming urge he felt was to cry, but he had to keep himself together. He had to be an example that omegas were just like everyone else. That omegas were strong enough and smart enough to be lawyers. That was his job. “It sucks,” he finally said.

“I sent them all letters and everything, recommendations and such,” Professor Carriedo went on, “But I guess it was no good.” They were both quiet for a moment, but then Carriedo spoke on, “I have an old friend who has a small private firm,” he said. “He and his partner specialize in divorce cases. It is nothing high profile, but it is an internship, yes?”

“I guess I’ll do it,” Alfred said. He had nothing else to do for the summer.

* * *

Alfred got back from his half-hour lunch at 1:15 and met Mr. Kirkland in his office. Kirkland had only left the office over the morning to use the bathroom once and to grab a folder that Matthew had prepared for him, and it seemed as though the man hadn’t noticed Alfred at all either trip.

This was agonizing to Alfred. He was attuned, and this made any indifference hit him hard like rejection. He cursed himself for it—Kirkland was a mediocre divorce lawyer who wasn’t even that attractive! Why had he attuned to the damn man? What was wrong with him?

Kirkland was sitting at his computer, and appeared to be reading something. “Take a seat, Alfred,” he said, and Alfred obeyed, his reaction a little faster than it normally was. Because of the attunement. Alfred hoped Kirkland wouldn’t notice it.

“So, here is the case so far,” Kirkland said. “Mrs. Elizaveta Héderváry, filed for divorce from her omega husband, Mr. Roderich Héderváry, né Edelstein, on grounds of adultery,” he said. “Mr. Héderváry wants the divorce also. He intends to secure their home. They have no children.”

“Okay,” Alfred replied, feeling a little awkward. He felt as if he should be taking notes or something. He squirmed under Kirkland’s heavy gaze.

“Is everything alright, Alfred?” Kirkland asked.

Damn it. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Alright, you looked… disturbed,” Kirkland said, and neither pushed the subject further. Kirkland instead asked, “How has your day turned out so far?”

“Everything is going well,” Alfred told him. “I’m still trying to figure out my job, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Is Francis involving you in any of his client’s cases?” Asked Arthur. He looked seriously off into the window for a second. “Damn it,” he swore. “I don’t know what to have an intern do,” he said. “I hardly remember my own internship. I tried not to. I know I hated it.”

“I suppose that interning for a small firm will give me a very unique experience,” Alfred said. He could feel the fakeness oozing out of him, it felt dirty. He was closer to being a lawyer already.

“You aren’t in law school yet, correct?”

“Yeah… Professor Carriedo said my job is technically an office intern? I’m a pre-law student. I’m starting my fourth year in fall,” Alfred said.

“I see,” Kirkland said. “Well, you are very precocious, then.”

“I just want to build a solid foundation, and some good connections for myself,” Alfred replied.

“You do seem to have high ambitions,” said Kirkland. “An omega layer. Rare thing. Brave thing. I can’t say its not interesting to have you here,” Kirkland said.

Damn. The man had brought it up himself. “It… makes it hard sometimes. There were lots of colleges they denied me for being an omega with interest in pre-law, or would only let me attend if I picked a different major.”

“Such a silly, backwards thing. Intelligence has nothing to do with hormones,” Kirkland said.

Alfred rejoiced when Michelle opened the door and stuck her head into the room. “Mr. Héderváry is here for his appointment, Mr. Kirkland,” she said.

“Bring him in,” Kirkland said. The man who entered the room was regal and rather aristocratic looking, he wore glasses and had neatly styled dark brown hair. “Mr. Héderváry,” Kirkland greeted.

“Good afternoon,” Héderváry said, and then looked rather unceremoniously at Alfred. “Who is this?” he asked.

“An intern. Is it alright if he assists me with your case? It was of interest because we’ve just started your case and Mr. Jones has only just begun interning with us.”

“I do not see any problem with that.”

“Okay,” said Kirkland. Héderváry sat in the other chair in front of Kirkland’s desk, and made no further move to greet Alfred himself. So Alfred didn’t either.

“So, I’d like to clarify some things we discussed when we first met,” Kirkland said, holding onto a clipboard. “Your wife’s accusation of adultery is true, correct?”

“Yes,” replied Héderváry. “I have been involved with another alpha.”

“I see. And you had planned to file for irreconcilable differences.”

“Yes, Mr. Kirkland. The marriage was… miserable.”

“Of course, Mr. Héderváry,” said Kirkland, and moved on to ask another question.

Alfred felt like his eyes were going to glaze over. God, this was boring.

Well, he’d definitely learned something so far at this sad internship. He would never, ever be a divorce lawyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is my last day of high school classes. Ever. I had two homework assignments. I didn't do them, but hey, I wrote this! And didn't fact check it. Or grammar check. Enjoy


	2. Just a Favor

Arthur didn’t want to show it around the boy, because it wasn’t the boy’s fault, but he was furious that the omega was even there. They were a small partnership, there was nothing for the boy to do that wasn’t being covered by Michelle or Matthew already!

Unpaid internships were supposed to be paid in experience, but unless they shucked work off of Michelle and Matthew’s backs (while still paying them) the boy wouldn’t even get that. And, on another note, why had Francis even broached the idea of an unpaid internship? Arthur hated the things.

The boy seemed friendly enough, and had done everything he’d been told exactly as he should. Arthur was rather impressed with the boy’s credentials, which raised the question: what the Hell was he doing here?

A little bit jumpy, perhaps, but the boy was an omega. Being an unbonded alpha himself, he did feel a little bit uncomfortable having him in his workplace, something could go wrong. Of course, Francis was _also_ unbonded, he could only hope the man would not be too rash and come onto the intern as it could be his habit to do with people—but then again, Alfred wasn’t really Francis’ type. Francis usually preferred female omegas.

The boy finished his day at four o’clock and packed up, saying goodbye to everyone in the office and grabbing a couple of cookies “for the road” as he put it.

God, they needed to get something a little classier out there. Arthur felt like a fool every time he stepped into the record room and saw the folded cardboard boxes the cookies came in in the recycle bin.

As soon as Alfred was safely out of the office, Arthur walked into Francis’ office. “Okay, Francis,” he said, in lieu of greeting, “What the _fuck_ are we doing with this boy?”

Francis sighed. “You do not like him?” He asked.

“No, it’s just that we don’t need him, and we’re depriving the kid of his time when we don’t even have anything useful for him to do.”

Francis sighed. “Do not breathe a word, not even to Matthew or Michelle,” he said, and sat down in one of his living chairs he kept in the cluttered space. Arthur did not take a seat. “He is a favor,” Francis said.

“A favor?” Arthur asked, “What are you talking about?”

“He is a student of Toño’s,” Francis said. “Very brilliant. Hard worker. Amazing boy, Toño says.”

“So?”

“He applied for internships at all the big firms and such. Completely qualified for them all,” Francis went on, “But was rejected. Because of his class.”

“Fuck,” said Arthur.

“Toño knew the boy would be devastated,” Francis went on. “He wants so badly to go on to law school and become a lawyer, and gets tripped every step of the way. He knows we are both accepting, and asked if we could make up an internship for him.”

“I see.”

“So we can move stuff around, give him easy tasks. Once he’s settled in, we can give Michelle Fridays off and give Matthew Mondays. Treat for the summer.”

Arthur rubbed his brow. “Just don’t get me involved in any omega rights shit. Far too messy for my caliber.”

“Of course not. It’s just a favor, help the boy get into law school by having him with an internship under his belt. Perhaps he will decide he’s interested in divorce cases. Maybe he’ll learn something.”

“Boy looked like he was going to claw off his own skin when I had him sit in the meeting with Roderich today,” Arthur replied, “So I bloody doubt that.”

* * *

 

Simply put, Alfred didn’t really have omega friends who understood omega things. There was his mom, yeah, but he didn’t like to confide in her, really. He was too driven compared to other omegas, and it struck up a bit of a mutual animosity between him and most other members of his class he seemed to meet. When he did meet omegas with high goals like himself, they always seemed to be at odds over something else.

Which was why he was calling Ivan’s boyfriend, even though Ivan’s boyfriend was a dick, just like Ivan, because at least Yao was an omega who he didn’t feel like a freak when he talked to because at least Yao was weirder than he was.

“Alfred?” Yao said when he answered his phone, “Why are you calling me?”

“Hello to you too, Yao,” Alfred replied.

“I am sorry, Alfred. But this is unusual.”

“Fine. I want to talk about omega shit.”

“Oh!” Yao said. “Hold on, this is rich, I have to write the date down somewhere… May 17th…”

“Shut up Yao,” Alfred said. “Please man, do me a solid. I need some help.”

“What is wrong?”

“How long did it take you to become attuned to Ivan?” Alfred asked.

“I was attuned after we had sex the first time,” Yao said. “That is how it usually goes… Oh, Alfred, have you finally broken your vow of abstinence? My, this is amazing, what day was that, I have to write that one down too…”

“Stop!” Alfred said, his cheeks turning pink. “It’s not like that. At all.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” Yao asked.

“Uh… I’m attuned to my boss…” Alfred replied.

“Didn’t you start your internship _today_?”

“Yes.”

“That’s kind of… amazing, actually.”

“No, it’s not!” Alfred said, “I can’t fucking concentrate on anything because of his stupid scent driving me crazy, and I can’t lose this crappy gig because it’s the only internship I can get…”

“I am sorry, Alfred,” Yao replied.

“Had better be…” Alfred muttered.

“What happened exactly?” Yao asked.

“Well, he asked me to come sit down in his office and talk to him and I felt pretty normal until I stepped out and it was like, oh my god, this alpha’s scent is literally the only thing I can smell right now…”

“Did you feel aroused?” Yao asked frankly.

“No, just kind of confused and overwhelmed.”

“Then you’re not fully attuned to him. Which is good.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, fully attuned is what mates are,” said Yao. “I know some people develop attunement gradually over time… maybe your brain just crossed some wires and you got a half baked attunement without doing anything. I’m not a doctor, Alfred.”

“Okay, alright. Geez,” Alfred replied. “Ugh, this sucks.”

“You want my advice?”

“What?”

“Drink it off.”

“Fuck off, you want me to go to work with a hangover and get fired or something.”

“I can’t deny that it’d be funny.”

* * *

 

Drinking hadn’t been an option the night before. Baking had. Just about the only skill any omega-class had ever managed to pound into Alfred’s head was how to make a mean chocolate chip cookie, so he stress-baked the evening away, wrapped the cookies up in Tupperware, and passed out.

He’d totally forgotten about Operation Cookie until he woke up and saw the Tupperware and felt like singing. Alfred ate cookies for breakfast.

After he had showered, dressed, and shaved, Alfred packed up the cookies in his bag and slogged his way to the office for 8:30 again, just in time for Michelle to unlock the office for the day.

“So, do Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy just come in whenever?”

“Matthew encourages them to come in by ten,” Michelle said. “He does not usually succeed. But, there’s a rare occasion when they come in before nine, even.”

"Oh,” said Alfred. “Uh, I made cookies,” he said, and then pulled the Tupperware out of the bag, opening it up to offer Michelle. “I thought it’d be less cheesy than the ones out the box.”

“Oh wow!” Michelle replied, taking one and biting into it. “Having an omega around the office will be pretty nice!” the beta commented.

Alfred winced. “Don’t put it that way,” he said, looking at his shoes. I don’t like that.”

“Oh, geez,” said Michelle, “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“It’s okay,” Alfred admonished. “Just yeah. I felt a little belittled, is all.” The atmosphere turned awkward, as they both fell quiet. Alfred laid out the cookies on the tray and tucked the Tupperware in the cupboard for the day.

Matthew arrived soon after, and was delighted by the appearance of the cookies. He went for one right away, and after he’d eaten half of it, he said, “So, I really doubt Michelle made these, and there’s no way Arthur and Francis are conscious right now… Did you make them Alfred?” He asked.

Alfred said, “Yes.”

Matthew ate the rest of it, and gave him thumbs up, nodding his head slowly. “Good cookie,” he went on. “Okay, I have some stuff for you to do. Come into the record room and give me a hand, alright?”

Alfred followed Matthew into the record room and was given the task of sorting some documents from the past few weeks by date. “Arthur and Francis always end up scrambling them after everyone else goes home for the night,” Matthew explained. Think you can take over this job when you get here in the morning?”

“Yeah, I can,” said Alfred.

“Okay, once you’re done with that, I’d give it about fifteen minutes until Francis arrives, so you’ll want to brew coffee as soon as you finish,” he said, and put Alfred to work.

As soon as Alfred finished those two tasks, he was sent on a hunt to buy more coffee beans (they’d just run out), more Famous Amos cookies (because there was no way he’d bake cookies every night, and once Kirkland had arrived the cookies began to disappear even more quickly), and batteries (Michelle’s mouse had run out and they discovered that none remained).

Once he returned to the office, to his horror, he was told Mr. Kirkland wanted to see him. As soon as he stepped into Kirkland’s office, it was like the attunement came soaring to the front of his mind. He tried not to visibly stiffen or react to it—alphas didn’t have noses quite as strong as omegas did, and Alfred hoped that if he fought it that Kirkland wouldn’t be able to notice that something was up for at least a little while long. He figured the universe held no mercy, so he didn’t bother hoping that Kirkland would never find out. Kirkland would. It’d be awful.

“Good morning, Alfred,” Kirkland said. Alfred didn’t deign to point out that it was actually 12:30 in the afternoon.

“Hello, Mr. Kirkland,” Alfred greeted him, and took a seat.

Kirkland wanted to discuss the Héderváry case, and Alfred complied. Alfred tried to make himself think it was just office hours with a professor as they discussed various approaches to the case and to Héderváry’s wishes, both the realistic and unrealistic ones.

This was Alfred’s element, but he couldn’t help but notice the vague feeling in his chest demanded he try to impress the alpha. _Push harder_ , it said. _Work harder_.

He let Kirkland take the reins instead. This was his specialty. He would learn what Kirkland had to say.

* * *

 

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about the boy, even more frustrating than his relative uselessness, the fact that they weren’t paying him, and the fact he was only there to do Antonio Carriedo a favor—was that this boy was _different_ compared to other omegas, at least in Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur was strictly mateless. Abstinent. He’d seen way too many bonds fall apart before his eyes in this business, and he’d never been all that interested before divorces had ended up being his bread and butter.

So why did he like smelling the boy so much? As they discussed this fairly textbook divorce case, Arthur found that the boy’s company was not only pleasant because he was intelligent. He realized that he had that ever so slight highfeeling that alphas get when they were enjoying an omegas scent _too_ much. 

God fucking damn it, couldn’t he at least try to be professionally instead of letting himself sit with a potential lawsuit all his own on his hands? What the fuck. And he thought Francis would be the problem.

He found himself surprised he was attracted to the omega at all. He wasn’t built all delicate and birdlike like most omegas, and he was taller than Arthur was. God damn it. God damn it.

* * *

 

“But why is that how you—” Oh, god, did Alfred know that smell as their conversation ground to a halt. That was the smell of pissed off alpha.

What did he do? Had he asked to many questions? Had he been rude? Was Kirkland offended? Had he overstepped his bounds?

His instincts screamed, _Get out!_ And for once, Alfred was inclined to listen to them. Too much at stake if he pissed off this alpha.

“Um, you know, I just remember, Matthew had some things he wanted me to copy before lunch,” Alfred spluttered, and got up quickly and out the door.

Michelle turned around and gave him an inquisitive look as he burst out of Kirkland’s office and threw himself into the record room just as quickly.

“Please tell me you need me to make copies,” he told Matthew.


	3. Jade

Arthur sat back in his chair, a little bit stumped by the omega's sudden departure. Until he remembered—he wasn't used to being around omegas much. He spent most of his time with alphas and betas. Omegas had a stronger sense of smell than any class. Alfred knew that Arthur was frustrated, and fearing the alpha's anger, the omega made a break for it.

Oh, God, Arthur couldn't deal with this.

Francis appeared through his office door, shutting it behind him. “You have made Alfred quite... Potent, Arthur.”

“Come again?”

“I haven't smelt that much fear coming off an omega since the last time I put one on the stand,” Francis sighed, flipping hair over his eye dramatically, “You've scared the lights out of him.”

“Sod off,” Arthur grumbled, pushing his chair away from the desk and turning away to look at the wall and instead of at Francis.

“Oh, you are embarrassed, Arthur?” asked Francis, chuckling lightly. He stepped closer and laid his palm on Arthur's desk. “Was it an accident, then? Your frightening him.”

“Go away,” Arthur said. “I have important things to do.”

“The only thing open on your computer is a picture of a cat.”

“The cat is Héderváry's. He's seeking full feline custody,” Arthur snapped.

“Even if that were real,” replied Francis, “I can't imagine that man has ever touched anything furry that was alive.”

“What business are my cat pursuits of yours, then?” Arthur demanded.

“Your cat interests are only my business when you lie about your workload to me,” Francis replied.

“You're not my boss,” Arthur replied.

“No, I'm your partner,” Francis replied.

“Don't phrase it like that, ugh,” replied Arthur, “You're makes yourself sound like we're an alpha pair. Gross.”

“Your prejudices remain unsurprising and unflattering, Arthur.”

“I just dislike what goes against nature,” Arthur replied.

“Well, when you look at it statistically, far less married alpha pairs break up then alpha-omega bonds,” replied Francis. “Maybe gays are just better at this 'relationship' thing.”

“We can talk about this when we have an alpha-alpha client, then. Let's put it to bed until we get there.”

“Alright then,” Francis said. “Why is Alfred upset?”

Arthur glared at him, and rubbed his hand over his brow. “I got pissed off, and he smelled it.”

“Why were you angry, then? Did he do something wrong?”

“No, god damn it!”

“Then what was it? We could just bring you to apologize to the boy for scaring him, then,--”

“No!” Arthur said loudly, slamming his hand on his desk. “Damn it Francis, just sod off.”

“What is it, Arthur?” Francis said. “Tell me or I'll get Alfred back in here.”

“I liked his scent,” Arthur grumbled. “And that pissed me off.”

“Oh, dear,” Francis said. “That's rich. Only you would get angry about being _attracted_ to someone.”

“Get  _out_ of my office, Francis.”

Arthur found himself frustrated as he attempted to get back to his work. Even if he wanted to do anything with the attraction, he couldn't. He was Alfred's boss—it was just a mess waiting to happen. Alfred would see his advances as predatory and then the whole situation would tip over like a boiling pot and scald everyone.

But damn it, the boy was cute. Arthur couldn't believe himself. Years and years of disinterest, dead end after dead end, and it all comes to this omega? Of course it would. Nothing had ever been simple for Arthur anyways.

His head snapped up when he smelled the boy's scent filling his office again. Alfred was standing sheepishly in the door, led in by Francis. “Arthur wants to apologize to you,” Francis told the boy. He looked at Arthur and hitched his chin up, egging Arthur on.

Arthur stood up and tried not to let his shoulders sag as he did it. He walked over to Alfred, and wringing his hands, he told the boy, “Listen, I'm sorry about scaring you earlier. I got angry, but it had nothing to do with you. I was distracted, that was all.”

“It's okay,” Alfred said. “I shouldn't've just bolted like that. Pretty dumb thing to do,” he admonished. The boy beamed then and slapped a hand on Alfred's shoulder, and said, “Glad we're all clear then!”

Arthur put his hand on Alfred's and pulled it off his shoulder, trying to return the smile, but he was pretty sure it just came off as a grimace. “I as well,” he managed, before glancing at Francis, hoping Francis would get the message.

“Why don't you go check to see if Michelle has anything she needs you to do before you finish up for the day, Alfred?” Francis encouraged.

“Okay, Mr. Bonnefoy!” Alfred said, and excused himself from the office. He was notably exuberant, and they could hear him questioning Michelle clearly through the walls.

“Interesting,” Arthur grunted, turning to head back towards the desk. “I thought I'd made it clear I didn't want to discuss anything?”

Francis snorted. “Clearly, you both handled it just fine. I fixed your awkward situation. You're welcome.” He grinned devilishly, and leaned over Arthur's desk as Arthur settled himself back down. “Did your skin just  _sing_ where he touched you?” 

“Go away.”

“So it did?” Francis pressed, leaning closer to Arthur's face.

Arthur hit Francis' neck hard with the heel of his palm and growled. “Don't get that close to me.”

“I'll leave it to our intern, I guess.”

“This is all your fault, you wanker! Get out of here!”

“Alright, alright,” Francis conceded. “Too far. I get it, you're emotionally and sexually repressed. I'll leave.”

Arthur glared at Francis' retreating back, and then bent over and leaned his head against his palms, letting his eyes shut. He couldn't believe this was happening to him.

* * *

Alfred felt the frustration coming in like the tide. It manifested itself in a pounding pain in his forehead, and he couldn't help but breathe a breath of relief as soon as he'd stepped out of the stuffy offices.

He'd spent his last twenty minutes of the day faking enthusiasm as well as he could. He wanted everyone there to think that he'd finally settled in, that he was ready to be chummy and get shit done. Or something. He just didn't want anyone to get an inkling that he was definitely having inappropriate thoughts about his boss.

He caught an elevator and was mercifully the only one in it. As soon as he pressed the ground floor button, he let himself slide down to sit on the floor of the narrow vessel, splaying his hands on the cool tile floor.

The doors opened at the third floor and a beta stepped in, holding some books and a laptop. The man gave Alfred an appraising look as he stood next to the row of buttons.

Alfred shook his head, and said, “Don't ask,” as the doors slid shut again.

“I wasn't going to,” the beta replied. They made it to the ground floor, and the beta briskly walked out as soon as the doors were open.

Alfred pulled himself to his feet, but then the doors slid shut. “Fuck!” Alfred cursed, quickly pressing the button to reopen the doors. He tried to look well put together as he walked out the building lobby like his ass was on fire.

He just wanted to get home, work his way through this sexual frustration and maybe organize his feelings so he could come in normal for his third day of this internship.  _Fuck_ .

He made it home as quick as he could. He locked the door behind himself, threw his shit on the table, and then walked straight to his bedroom and threw himself on the bed. He made a noise that was somewhere halfway between a groan and a curse word. He hated his life.

His alpha boss hated him, and Alfred kinda wanted to bang him.

Ugh.

* * *

 

“Good morning, Alfred,” Michelle greeted him cordially as he walked into the office.

“Hey,” Alfred replied. He crossed the room, and hung his jacket on his hook. 

“I have tea on for Kirkland,” she told him. “Will you pour the water from the kettle into the pot and bring it to him? It ought to be ready now.”

“What about the tea?” Alfred asked, eyeing the various packets that were set up along the cookie table. 

“Kirkland has his own tea in his office,” she said. “He just needed the water steeped.”

“Okay,” Alfred said. Of course he had to deal with Kirkland first thing in the morning.

Since when did either lawyer even show up before ten, either? Then again, Alfred had only been here for three days.

He switched off the kettle and pour the hot water into Kirkland's teapot. He carefully lifted the pot, holding it by the handle and spout as to not hurt his hands. He walked over to Kirkland's door, and balanced the spout on his chest to turn the knob so he could take the spout with his hand again and kick the door open. 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Kirkland said without looking up. 

“Of course, Mr. Kirkland,” Alfred replied, setting the tea pot down on Kirkland's desk. He noticed that Kirkland's own kettle was missing from the table. “What happened to your kettle?” he asked.

“Busted,” Kirkland said with a sigh, tidying his papers up. “It broke on me last night.”

“Oh,” Alfred said. “I'm sorry about that.”

“No harm, really,” Kirkland replied. “Just adds a step to the process,” he went on. He opened a tin that sat beside his monitor, and took a small, transparently netted tea bag out that he put in the teapot. “Care for a cup of tea with me, Alfred?” he asked.

“What kind is it?”

“Black cherry,” Kirkland replied. “A client gave it to me. It's a touch strong, but charming.”

Alfred had never been one for tea, but he agreed anyways. “Sure,” he said. “That sounds good.”

“Yes, well, I'll just give it a few minutes,” Kirkland said, looking down at the teapot. “How was your evening, lad?” he asked.

Awful. Alfred had laid in bed all night and watched  _How I Met Your Mother_ on Netflix. “It was alright,” Alfred told Kirkland, “I took some time to relax.”

“That's good,” Kirkland said, “I'm afraid I was in a bit late,” he told him, peeking at the tea. “Mr.  Héderváry insists on defending himself to me, and that makes my job harder.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, he is the omega,” Kirkland replied. “They generally get the short stick in these cases assets wise, and he's rather... illustrious, but their finances are complicated.”

“Come again?” Alfred asked.

“They're of modest wealth, Elizaveta works as an executive for a mid-size company,” Kirkland said, “But she also works as Héderváry's manager, as he is a professional pianist.”

“Oh,” Alfred said. Arthur took two mugs from a shelf and poured two cups of tea. Alfred breathed in deeply as the tea's fruity, fragrant scent hit the air. It was strong, but it smelled sweet. “Thank you,” Alfred told Kirkland.

“Not a worry,” Kirkland replied.

Alfred took a sip of his tea, and it was all it took not to spit it out. This wasn't sweet, it was just... weird! He couldn't describe the taste of it, but he had to keep drinking so as to not offend Kirkland.

“It must be kind of draining working with these dysfunctional couples day in and day out,” Alfred said.

“It is,” Kirkland replied. “Most of them are rather obnoxious, but a client is a client.”

“Do you know who Héderváry ran away with?” Alfred asked. Perhaps he was prying too much into Héderváry's personal life, but he didn't care.

“Some young alpha named Gilbert Beilschmidt, who I had the displeasure of meeting,” Kirkland told him. “I cannot fathom why Héderváry chose him. Héderváry is so... stiff, and Beilschmidt was a nightmare. He just wanted to pick a fight the whole time.”

Alfred refrained from saying that Kirkland usually seemed pretty interested in picking fights himself.

“So, what about you?” Kirkland replied. “Have you gotten jaded yet because of us? If you haven't perhaps the prolonged exposure will do it.”

“Mr. Bonnefoy doesn't appear jaded,” Alfred said.

“Francis doesn't even maintain a passing interest in monogamy,” Kirkland said.

“Bonding isn't really something I've had on my mind,” Alfred said, deciding not to beat around the bush. However, he did leave the proceeding,  _unless it were with you_ , behind in his thoughts.

“Keep it that way,” Kirkland told him. “Everyone says that bonds are permanent, bonds are strong. But what you're going to learn here is that they're made of glass. Not worth the effort.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! You thought this was dead, didn't you?
> 
> Not sure about updates for this thing as I do have other projects going on, but I'm not planning to drop the ball as bad as I did again.


End file.
